­The unwanted soul cravings

Avoiding something

doesn’t always mean that you hate it.

It could also mean

that you wanted

but just know it isn’t right.

Unknown

Silence fills the caves as my senses return to reality. My eyes open slowly to the all surrounding darkness. It takes me just a fraction of a second to adjust to the situation. Yet for a moment I can’t seem to point out the root of the problem… and as I listen to the sounds more carefully I understand what it is that seems to Inconvenience me.

For a first time in a long time I am not alone.

I wake up next to her. My prisoner… Her body in deep slumber. She looks so peaceful that… my mind flinches from the thought, because it’s the strangest sensation. Because a part of me wants to watch her like this for a very long time, for no good reason, well no logical reason that is… and the other part just wants to get up and leave… this very ridiculous situation. Fraternizing with the enemy… illogical. However the word enemy seems a bit too powerful in these circumstances. And yet, the word hostage or prey doesn’t seem to apply any longer. Something has changed. In a very bad way… I no longer seem to be myself. I’ve became this grotesque version of myself.

A version that seems to consider the options, the possibilities… that ponders.

I don’t ponder. I act. I’m prone to strategize, yes… but to ponder… beyond unnecessary. I have better things to do now, things that need to be taken care of. I start to get up, my elbows already supporting my torso, and as I do this I give a side glance at the one lying beside me. I narrow my eyes again, irritated by my own hesitation. She takes a deeper breath and murmurs something silently. I let out a low grown, as my body drops back on the mattress.

The way she looks in her sleep. So defenseless… and still happy. Content. She isn’t like this when awake. No, not when with me. Can’t say that I’m surprised. Because of my presence she ends up bruised and battered… daily. One way or another, something happens to her… very unlucky creature indeed. And as I think about this an image runs through my head. My back strains at the memory. I furrow my eyebrows as the image is very unwanted.

The spear in her body… her pain… legs that suddenly hit the ground when her body gives in. That scream. As if the owner screamed out the entire pain of the world… very affecting. I feel a shiver run down my spine and change my position as if trying to avoid the uncomfortable reaction… apparently trying to turn away from it.

This causes her to stir in her dreams. Her hands tighten themselves into small fists.

A deep thrown between her eyebrows. She mumbles something, the words not very clear. And as one of her hands loses up and stretches forward… it reaches the sleeve of my arm. She mumbles more strange words and leans into me, wrapping herself around my arm. Her body curling into a tight ball.

For a short moment I think she’s doing this on purpose and my body tenses from the touch. But then I realize she’s still deep in her sleep. I breathe deep through my nose, as if trying to hold something back… or just trying not to move so she doesn’t wake up. Why I do this is a mystery to even to myself. Or perhaps I do…

Maybe, just maybe… considering the most insane option… what I’m experiencing is - I shake my head in disbelief - that could not be right… a word pops up in my head, just like a dropped coin… which makes an annoying sound as it hits the “ground”. The word sounds quite alien in my own personal dictionary.

Guilt. I’m… experiencing… guilt. Hmm, I’ve heard about that word, about that human emotion, and yet I never even in a millennium though I would be even close to getting it first-hand. Very, very inconvenient.

And why is that exactly, one might ask? I look down at the tight ball, that is my prisoner for the past couple of weeks… for dozen of days and endless amount of hours and a staggering number of seconds… I sigh quietly.

Apparently I feel guilty because I’m still in her bed, while I should be in a million other places… and not only that. I woke up next to her, which leads to a simple conclusion, that I actually felt a sleep next to her. Which hasn’t happened before… obviously I can sleep… however I don’t need to. Especially in front of my hostage… or whatever that she is right now. So much has happened. So. Much. Has. Changed.

I look down at her, as she mumbles more incoherent sounds. Something seems to worry her, a deep frown on her face. My body shows the most peculiar reaction to that. I feel unsettled by her distress. The fingers of my hand stretching out to her face, a sudden need to smooth the lines on her forehead overpowers me. I freeze for a moment, surprised by own erratic responses. Then I shake my head with annoyance. Oh, what does it matter anyway for harms sake?! She’s asleep and I don’t have to explain any of my motivations… even to myself. I’m free to do as I please.

Once more I outstretch my hand and touch her forehead gently with my fingers. And somehow the notion seems almost… pleasant. This bothers me, it’s strange, unfamiliar to me. And not only that, my touch seems to trigger something in the girl too. She quickly calms down, her face once again smooth without the worries bothering her unconscious mind. Her body relaxes too. Legs loosening up, hands no longer in tight fists. She leans closer to me, clinging against my side, her face buried in my chest. I don’t move, not sure what to do next… not sure if I should push her away, or just let her lie like this. So in the end… I don’t do anything.

I just stare at her, as she falls deeper in her slumber. The dark circles under her eyes indicating that she needs her human rest. She seems to be tired a lot lately. Once more I am the cause of that – I shake my head with growing frustration which causes my muscles to tense again. Why is this even bothering me? Why do I waste my precious time on these pointless… thoughts?

I look at her again, my stare dropping from her closed eyes to the peak of her nose… right down to her lips. And that’s where my stare stops for longer than it should. Her lips just a perfect shape… a perfect shape to kiss. I shake my head again, my eyebrows furrowed; the sudden necessity to touch her lips with mine consuming. What’s happening to me? Why am I so disoriented, so unpredictable? More than usual that is. Hmm, I kissed her before, but it was different. I was playing with her, just toying around. Nothing special really… and yet, I can’t deny that strangely it felt good.

As natural as lust can be to a sinner…

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